


No Such Thing as a Quiet Year

by CaptainNerdblog



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Magic, Nightmares, Quidditch, Slow Build, This will be a long one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:24:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5200625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainNerdblog/pseuds/CaptainNerdblog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with the nightmares. Daichi wishes it had ended there.</p><p>In which no one talks about their feelings, Kageyama and Hinata are fighting (again), Kenma becomes an illegal teacher, Tsukishima and Yamaguchi battle some interesting bogarts, Asahi finds himself involved in a prank war, Kuroo can't cast a Patronus, Quidditch is shamelessly used to further the plot, and everyone is extremely worried all the time.</p><p>And that's just the first year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Rough Start

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This is my first work for this fandom, and my first fanfiction in quite a long time. I started years ago with HP fanfiction, so I guess everything comes full circle.
> 
> This fic will follow the characters for three consecutive Hogwarts years (until the current Fifth Years are Seventh Years), so there's going to be quite a few chapters. 
> 
> Please feel free to leave me feedback, I'd love to know what you guys think!

_Daichi is running._

_He knows he’s in a forest, because he can barely see the sky through the thick leaves above him. Each movement he makes is focused on dodging the thick trunks in front of him, and the swirling vines and troublesome dips in the earth beneath his feet. He has no clue where he’s going, but he feels someone watching him, and that’s enough to propel him forward._

_He’s thinking it’s about time he’s found a way out, but every time he thinks he can see the edge of the trees and a break in the darkness, he turns and finds himself in the middle of the forest again. Maybe this would be easier in the daytime. He’s unsure of what time it is, but it’s dark now._

_Breathless, he considers stopping but he has the distinct feeling that to quit running would mean handing himself over to whatever it is that’s watching him, monitoring him, chasing him through the darkness. His lungs burn, as do the muscles in his legs, but he can’t stop. He won’t let himself._

_Suddenly, he trips, caught in his thoughts and careless in his movements. He falls through the thick blanket of fog that’s settled above the ground and scrambles to get his back against a tree. The gaze is becoming more focused, moving in, surrounding him with panic and dread._

_He tries to scream, but no sound comes out. His stomach churns. He clutches his throat, willing himself to take a breath but it won’t happen. He tries screaming again to no avail. Whatever is lurking just beyond his vision is inching closer. He can feel it._

_“Daichi!”_

_He wonders vaguely if that’s the voice of the thing that is going to rip his skin from his bones. He tries to breathe again, but it’s an exercise in futility. He can feel himself going lightheaded, and grasps behind him for a wand he doesn’t find._

_“Daichi!”_

_Why is it calling him? Is this a game? Does it want to play with him before it guts him in the forest where he’s sure no one will find him? It’s coming closer, he can almost see it or, at least, he thinks he sees something moving ahead. If his vision weren’t clouding, he’s sure he would be able to see a defined shape. As it stands, he’s blacking out. Maybe that’s for the best._

_“Daichi, goddammit, wake up!”_

* * *

 

Daichi shoots forward in his bed, sheets and comforter flailing around him, and is met with an illuminated wand pointed directly at his forehead. It’s owner breathes a sigh of relief, and runs a hand through messy black bedhead hair before seating himself against the footboard of Daichi’s bed. The light blinds him, so different from the darkness he remembers from a moment ago, and he raises an arm to shield his eyes.

“Turn it off, Kuroo,” he mumbles, and the other boy complies with a soft, _nox_.

“Oh, sorry, did I ruin your sleep?” Kuroo inquires, sarcasm evident despite his voice being a low whisper. “Sorry, your bloodcurdling screams kind of woke me up and I was thinking I might like some company.”

So he was screaming again. Though the nightmares had happened every other night since they arrived back at school two weeks ago, the screaming was only occasional. After the second time he had woken up their whole dorm at an obscene hour of the morning, the two boys across the room got into the habit of casting silencing charms around their beds before they went to sleep.

Daichi took notice of the boy laying in the bed to his right, grey and black hair splayed across his pillow in much the same arrangement that it usually took during the daytime. He was still fast sleep despite not placing a silencing charm, though that was to be expected. To call Bokuto a heavy sleeper would be an understatement on par with calling Divination kind of useless or saying that Hogwarts was a slightly peculiar place to study.

Daichi recalls one night during their third year when the boys of their dorm got a little restless after Bokuto had already gone to bed, and accidentally set off a whole case of Weasley’s fireworks in the common room. They not only woke every single sleeping Gryffindor in the entire House (aside from Bokuto), but they sent the Fat Lady into a wailing fit that lasted three hours and earned themselves two months of consecutive detentions on top of it. The only reason Bokuto even found out that the ordeal had transpired was that he had the nerve to ask why everyone looked so tired at breakfast the next morning, and had his ass handed to him by a highly disgruntled Fifth Year prefect.

Daichi turns back to Kuroo.

“I’m sorry. You could just cast a silencing charm…” Daichi trails off, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He knows Kuroo won’t. When the other boys did, it went unspoken that Kuroo wanted to be able to hear Daichi. He needed to make sure that he would sleep through the night and, if not, that Kuroo would be there for him to talk to if he wanted. Daichi had already made his protests, and they were ignored then just like they were going to be ignored now.

To confirm these suspicions, Kuroo simply rolls his eyes.

“You need to talk to someone, Daichi.” It may be because he’s tired, but Kuroo sounds more serious than Daichi thinks he intended. It wasn’t like he was hiding his nightmares, exactly. There was simply no reason to go crying every time he had a bad dream, and there was no one to go to even if he decided he did want to talk.

“What’s anyone supposed to do for me? Pat my hair and tell me it’ll be okay? I got that.”

“The nightmares suck, but they’re only a symptom of a different problem.” Kuroo punctuates his words with a yawn.

“When did you get a degree in psychoanalysis,” Daichi says. It’s petty, but he wishes Kuroo would stop talking so they could both try to get some sleep before classes tomorrow. Kuroo wasn’t offering him any information he had not already considered on his own.

“You can be rude if it helps you sleep at night,” Kuroo says, getting to his feet and walking himself back to his own bed. He flips open the covers and slides in, back to Daichi. Out his window, Daichi can see the beginnings of morning peeking over the lake, and he wonders if sleeping is even worth it at that point.

Sighing, he casts a silencing charm around his own bed for Kuroo’s sake and drifts off.

* * *

 

Daichi is deep into his fifth cup of coffee when he realizes two things; one, he might be developing a slight resistance to caffeine and two, Suga was staring at him.

“What?” he says between sips, and Suga’s eyes widen.

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if you could hear your own heartbeat yet.” He gestures to the cup in Daichi’s hands and tilts his head as though to say what’s up? Daichi sighs and opens his mouth to answer, but Kuroo cuts him off before he can think of a reasonable excuse.

“Daichi here was awake at five in the morning again, Suga. Isn’t that so normal?” Kuroo slaps a hand on Daichi’s shoulder, and gives him a sarcastic grin.

“The normalest,” Suga says warily, before dropping his voice. “Daichi, nightmares, again?” His face is twisted into an expression of pure worry, and the guilt reignites in Daichi’s chest. He vaguely wonders why everyone was making him feel guilty when he was the one waking up screaming. Could they not muster up a little sympathy?

“It’s not a big deal, Suga.”

“One nightmare, you’re right. Two nightmares, even. I would say you’re just having a bad week. But, Daichi, you’ve had a record number of nightmares in such a short amount of time. I’m worried.”

Daichi wishes he hadn’t said it. He knew, of course, that he was worrying Suga and Kuroo and a host of other people, but he didn’t like having to face it head on. He could barely look at Suga, trying to avoid the concern he knew he’d find on his face. The worst part, in Daichi’s opinion, was knowing that Suga wasn’t even aware of every nightmare, or of the extent to which they bothered him. It felt like keeping secrets to him, despite his sleep being no one else’s business.

“If it gets bad, I’ll tell someone.” Suga looks like he might say something else, but he is interrupted by someone talking loudly a few seats away.

“What is Dumbass up to now?” Daichi follows the boy’s gaze to the Hufflepuff table, where a short Third Year boy is pointing a wand to his hair and muttering under his breath. At once, the color of his hair seems to melt from its usual shocking orange to a sickly green, though this was clearly not his intention. He clasps a hand over his mouth and shoots a panicked look to a tall boy on his right, who immediately buries his nose in a book laid out over the table, trying to find a solution to the problem at hand.

It was no secret that Kageyama and Hinata had never really gotten along. Since Daichi can remember, the two had had an intense rivalry, bordering on hatred, which they liked to demonstrate at every possible moment. When the two were First Years, Kageyama and Hinata had been in a Charms class together and the fiery Hufflepuff had accidentally hexed Kageyama in a fit of excitement and misplaced wand work. When Kageyama finally got his fingernails to stop growing uncontrollably, he was pissed. Of course, the ill-tempered Gryffindor had not been forgiving and had not let it go, resulting in constant unease where the two were concerned, even two years later.

Beside Kageyama, his year-mate Yamaguchi hides a smile behind his hand. They continue to watch Hinata, who has taken the advice of his friend and steadies his wand against the side of his head once more. Daichi can see him muttering, and he’s looking confident, but then smoke which smells of burnt rubber fills the Great Hall and Daichi knows something has gone very wrong.

Hinata’s hair is now on fire, and he lets out an undignified yelp as he looks around for assistance from any of his housemates. The rest of Hufflepuff slides away, leaving a panicked Hinata and an even more panicked Lev, who is consulting his book frantically. When he isn’t fast enough, an older boy grabs a pitcher of pumpkin juice and pours it over Hinata’s head, soaking his robes but stopping the fire. The older boy runs a hand through his own shaggy hair and begins to apologize, though Hinata has already started to run from the Great Hall.

“Oh dear,” Suga mutters, turning his back on the scene and returning to his breakfast.

“That might be the stupidest thing he’s ever done in front of the whole school,” a voice says, coming from the seat across from Kageyama. It’s owner shakes a head of black hair accented with a thick blonde stripe in the center of his forehead.

“True, but Asahi should get house points for that save.” His friend grins.

“Tanaka, if Asahi got house points each time he saved Hinata from doing something stupid, Hufflepuff would always take the Cup. Where is your house spirit?” Bokuto calls from where he is sitting beside Kuroo. He currently has his arm around the shoulders of a tired-looking Fourth Year Ravenclaw who grimaces in what appears to be pain each time Bokuto speaks.

“Rough night, Akaashi?” Suga asks sympathetically, and Akaashi nods.

“I was up all night with Runes homework and a migraine. I’m fine, though. Thank you for asking, Suga.” Akaashi’s coffee consumption aims to rival Daichi’s, as he sips his third cup and leans his head on Bokuto’s shoulder.

Suga looks at his watch, and adjusts his tie underneath his robes. Green, Daichi has always thought, suited Suga’s skin very well. He couldn’t quite admit to being fond of Slytherin colors, but he could admit that Suga made them a little more bearable.

“I’ve got class, but I’ll see you later in Herbology?” He asks, standing up. In front of him, his plates and cup vanish, leaving behind an empty seat. Daichi simply nods, and sends Suga a small smile before sipping the last of his coffee. He spends the rest of breakfast watching Bokuto and Kuroo attempt to transfigure sausages into mice, though they only manage to give some of the links tails before being forced to clean up and go to class.

* * *

 

Kageyama is trying to concentrate, he really is. Beside him, Yamaguchi is stirring their Refreshment Solution the required thirty times counterclockwise. The potion bubbles, emitting a faint cherry odor and turns a unique shade of sky blue on the eighteenth stir.

The source of his concentration problems stems from the Third Year Hufflepuff duo across the room. Professor Hazel never really minded if they were loud in her class, and she encouraged communication and discussion between Potions partners as a key element of good brewing. Still, Kageyama wasn’t sure shouting and whooping every time an ingredient was added counted as a communication technique. Hinata and Lev are grating on his last nerve, and he has to sit back in his seat, resting his elbows on the desk and covering his eyes with his hands, to keep from marching across the room and thrusting Hinata’s head to the bottom of his cauldron.

Above him, Yamaguchi clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Kageyama, did we add all four teaspoons of powdered violet root?” He is peering into their cauldron with concern.

“No,” Kageyama grunts, getting up to inspect the potion for himself. At this stage, it should be a deep indigo. Theirs is nearly clear. “You said three teaspoons.”

Yamaguchi shakes his head.

“I didn’t, but it should be fine if we add it now.” He looks at Kageyama expectantly and Kageyama knows he means _fix your own mistake_. He rolls his eyes and marches over to the Potions cupboard, scanning the shelves of the small closet for violet root.

Nestled between a jar of something animalistic floating in a grey liquid and a jar of dried wings of some sort, Kageyama finds the glass labeled Powdered Root of Violet in thin swirly handwriting. There looks to be enough left for just one or two more potions, and he turns to find his way back to his desk.

At least, that’s what he intends to do when he bumps into something blocking the doorway to the classroom. He doesn’t immediately see what he’s hit until he looks down upon a mop of slightly blackened green hair. They had been quick to set out of the fire, this morning, but no one could seem to return Hinata’s hair to its usual obnoxious shade.

“Move, Hinata,” Kageyama says clearly.

“I need that.” Hinata has his eyes locked on the jar in Kageyama’s hands, and makes an attempt to reach for it. This attempt is thwarted by Kageyama raising the jaw a few inches over his own head.

“No. Now move.”

“But you’ve already used it,” Hinata whines, screwing his face up in concentration, and standing on the tips of his toes to aid his reach.

“And we need it again. Move.” This time the last word is clearly a threat. Kageyama tries to step around Hinata, but Hinata is tracking his movement and continues to trap him in the cupboard. Over Hinata’s head, Kageyama can see Yamaguchi tempering the heat under their cauldron and eyeing him with what Kageyama interprets as a small look of pity.

“It’s not our fault you messed up and need more. We haven’t added it at all!”

“And it’s not my fault you’re too incompetent to complete your potion on time and have to add it twenty minutes after everyone else. Now. Move.” Kageyama steps forward, intending to use the force of his body to blast Hinata backwards. At the same time, Hinata jumps.

Kageyama can only stare in wonder as Hinata soars above him, clearing the top of Kageyama’s head with the tips of his polished black shoes. In the back of his mind, he is thankful for the fact that the potions cupboard has a high ceiling relative to the rest of the dungeon, or he thinks he might be wearing Hinata’s blood at this point.

On his fall, Hinata grabs at the glass jar Kageyama has been holding above his head and tries to pull it towards his chest, but Kageyama doesn’t get the hint to let go, and they both go tumbling to the floor, falling just outside the small room they previously occupied. The whole class is watching them now, as they roll around on the cold stone of the classroom floor and wrestle for the last few tablespoons of violet root.

“Dammit, Kageyama, let go!” Hinata growls, attempting to knee Kageyama in the stomach. Kageyama retaliates by digging the nails of one free hand into the skin on Hinata’s arm, and he earns himself a yelp in reply. They’re rolling into the middle of the room now, too stubborn to let go of the jar, and they can both vaguely hear the professor asking them to get up.

They don’t. Instead, Kageyama throws an elbow against Hinata’s chest and tries to tear his small hands away from the glass.

“You’re a useless pain in my ass, Hinata,” he yells, igniting fury inside of the smaller boy. Hinata throws his body to the side, rolling Kageyama over and causing him to smash his back against the leg of the desk where two Hufflepuff girls are currently watching them with morbid curiosity.

The next few moments happen in slow motion. Hinata’s eyes go wide and Kageyama whips his head around to see what he’s so interested in. The two girls behind the desk shriek and move just in time to dodge the bubbling cauldron that overturns and empties itself onto the floor. At once, the wooden legs of the desk and chairs begin to sizzle and smoke as the thick potion spreads itself like molten lava across the floor of the classroom.

Kageyama and Hinata both jump up, abandoning the jar of violet root on the floor where the potion envelops it and eats away at the glass, and run towards the back of the room where the rest of the class is huddled. The entire dungeon is quickly filling with smoke as the potion works its way over the floor, and Professor Hazel calls for everyone to leave the dungeon.

“Wait for me in the hallway, now! Hinata, Kageyama. Don’t you dare think about leaving,” she yells over her shoulder, wand raised towards the growing puddle of potion.

The students grab their bookbags with haste and file into the corridor just beyond the door to the classroom.

Kageyama is in shock. He can feel the eyes of all of his classmates on him despite his own gaze being set firmly on the ground, and he wonders for a moment if he should apologize. He doesn’t get the chance to.

“Do you get off on being an asshole, Kageyama?” Hinata says, cutting the awkward silence that has fallen over the students. Kageyama looks up and catches Hinata staring directly into his eyes. He is positioned a few feet away from Kageyama, shoulders set like he’s about to throw a punch. Around them, their classmates form a loose semi-circle, not wanting to miss a second of the fight they’re sure they’ll be explaining to the rest of their housemates later.

Kageyama wants to say something back that’ll shut Hinata up for good. He wants to rattle him and force him to back down before this escalates. Instead, he stutters.

“What?”

“I said,” Hinata starts, words slow and eyes intense. “Why the hell are you so terrible?”

“Okay, guys, listen,” Yamaguchi starts, stepping between them.

At the same time, Lev moves to mirror his actions. “There’s no need to fight!” He forces a smile and nervous laugh, but no one makes a move to walk away.

“How the fuck did someone as incompetent as you even wind up at this school?” Kageyama starts, finding his confidence. He peers over Yamaguchi and around Lev to stare down at Hinata as he speaks. “You’re a pureblood wizard and you can’t even accomplish the most basic of spells. There’s no shame in admitting you’re a squib, Hinata, so do us all the favor.”

He’s crossed a line. This fact registers with him when Hinata blows past the two boys standing between them and launches himself at Kageyama. They fall backwards and the sound of Kageyama’s head hitting the ground echoes with a loud thud through the corridor. Hinata’s hands are around his neck when he lifts a fist to punch the side of Hinata’s face, causing the other boy to let up for a moment before resuming his efforts to rid Kageyama of his air supply.

Lev wraps his arms around Hinata’s middle and lifts, but Hinata clings to Kageyama’s robes, lifting him up and shaking him. The rest of their classmates murmur and whisper behind their hands, but make no move to get help or break the fight themselves. Grunting and the sound of balled fists hitting the fabric of robes drown out the voices after a while.

It feels like it’s been hours, but Kageyama knows they’ve probably only been fighting for a few minutes when the door to their classroom opens and smoke filters out into the hallway. Temporarily blinded, Hinata releases his grip on Kageyama and allows Lev to set him on the other side of the crowd. The first deep breath that Kageyama has been able to take since the fight began is filled with smoke that burns his lungs, and he coughs into his elbow. He wants to get up, but the ache around his ribs prevents him from doing so.

With an exasperated sigh, Professor Hazel surveys the class.

“I was able to salvage almost everything,” she begins. “Class will be held here at the usual time on Wednesday. Everyone aside from Kageyama and Hinata is free to go.”

The smoke begins to clear, and Kageyama can see Yamaguchi give him a sympathetic smile through the lingering haze before grabbing his bag and leaving with the rest of their class. Kageyama winces in pain as he gets to his feet, grabbing his own things and stepping over to stand in front of Professor Hazel. Hinata does the same, and he notices they both have already begun bruising around their faces. Hinata’s arm is still bleeding from where Kageyama dug in his nails, and Kageyama is aware that the front of his robes are ripped from the relentless force of Hinata’s grip.

“You two.” Professor Hazel looks like she’s going to scold them at first, and Kageyama prepares himself for the worst. After a moment, she looks resigned. She’s far too familiar with their usual dynamic. “I have nothing to say that’s going to matter one way or another. Be here for detention in two days at the completion of dinner.”

She turns on her heels and reenters the classroom, and when the door closes behind her, Kageyama lets out the breath he is holding. He doesn’t look at Hinata once as he brushes past him on his way to his next class.

* * *

 

“Hey, Nishinoya, did you take a sleeping potion before getting on your broom or something?”

“Fuck off, Bokuto! Have you even touched a bludger since you’ve been up here?”

“The balls I touch are my business! Maybe I’d see more of a point in trying if Kuroo could block a damn goal every once in a while!”

“Oi, hey! Fuck you! Maybe if I saw a quaffle over here, I’d have something to block!”

“Enough!”

Suga knows that they aren’t paying attention to him or Asahi in the stands, but he hides his laughter behind his hand anyway. The sun looks like it might begin setting soon, the days growing shorter as autumn makes its presence known. It hasn’t yet begun to get chilly, and the boys are most comfortable wearing thin house sweaters and abandoning their ties.

From the stands, Suga can see Daichi floating around and attempting to put an end to the nonsensical arguing of his teammates. He smiles fondly, recalling a time when Daichi was too nervous on a Quidditch pitch to do much of anything besides cling to his broom and make halfhearted attempts to swat at passing bludgers. If the team had not been so desperate that year, he is certain Daichi would not have been allowed to play at all.

Each house decided to push back the official start of the Quidditch season, this year, in order to give prospective members some time to practice. This measure was intended to balance the bias towards students from magical families who had the opportunity to hone their skills over the summer, and though everyone agreed it was a necessary change, current members of the house teams were growing restless in anticipation of the start of practices.

Daichi, Kuroo, Tanaka, Bokuto, and Nishinoya had been doing private practices ever since Nishinoya joined the team at the beginning of the previous year. Waiting for the start of the season forced them to increase the frequency of these practices, and they had been willing to do so every day since the start of term. It was somewhat of a tradition for Suga to spectate, offering advice and witty underappreciated (in his opinion) commentary on their playing, and he usually dragged out whoever was available to keep him company. Today Asahi had been more than happy to join him.

After the third failed attempt to get Kuroo to block his goal, Daichi decides to call it quits for the day. The boys dismount their brooms and enter the stands to join Suga and Asahi, arguing the whole way there.

Daichi falls into the seat beside Suga, ripping his leather Beater’s gloves off his hands and allowing his shoulders to sag in exhaustion. Bokuto sits between Asahi and Kuroo, wiping sweat from his forehead, and Tanaka and Nishinoya take the spots in front of them, trying to get the final hit in an overtly childish slap fight.

Daichi is the first to speak with a concise, “We suck.”

“Well, you are missing half of the team…” Suga tries, giving Daichi a light pat on the shoulder. Daichi just shakes his head.

“That’s not it.”

“At this rate, we aren’t even going to beat Ravenclaw, let alone Slytherin or Hufflepuff,” Tanaka grumbles, wringing his hands in front of him.

“Ah, but Hufflepuff doesn’t have a Seeker yet, right, Asahi?” Bokuto asks, and Asahi shakes his head. “See? We might still have a chance! A seeker is gonna need a lot of training, we might get a match or two in our favor before we really start losing!”

“That’s…super optimistic, Bokuto.” Kuroo sighs, twirling his wand around in his hands.

“Sorry, guys,” Asahi mumbles, looking at the ground. Suga can tell he feels guilty for being on a winning Quidditch team, which is an absurd thing to feel guilty about. It never ceased to amaze Suga just how attune to the feelings of others Asahi could be.

“Well, when I’m captain next year, we are taking the Quidditch Cup back from you, so get ready,” Kuroo says with mock determination, glancing Asahi’s way with a grin. Beside Suga, Daichi shifts in his seat.

“When _you’re_ captain?” he challenges, a smirk forming on his lips.

“Yeah, when I’m captain.” Kuroo drags himself across the bench to be closer to Daichi.

“You mean after I fall of my broom and die? Because that’s the only way you’ll ever get that title.”

“You want a head start on that demise?”

“Boys, boys,” Suga says, holding a hand up to each player’s chest and giving a soft laugh.

“Why are we letting an enemy team’s best player watch our practices, anyway?” Tanaka asks suddenly, gesturing to Asahi, who visibly pales. “What if he sells our secrets out to his team?”

Asahi is in the middle of sputtering when Nishinoya looks at Tanaka with disbelief.

“We don’t have any secrets. We suck,” he emphasizes. “If we had secrets, I’d sell them myself. At least then I’d be a losing Quidditch player with some money.”

“I’d give our secrets away for a galleon and the answers to the next Charms exam,” Bokuto says dejectedly, and Kuroo nods in assent.

“I’d trade our secrets for the opportunity to talk to that cute Fifth Year Ravenclaw for like, three minutes,” Noya counters.

“Kiyoko?” Tanaka asks, and Nishinoya just sighs in response. “Yeah, I’d agree with that.”

“What a great team we have here. So confident,” Daichi says as he shoots them all a pointed look, which only Bokuto has the decency to shrink back from. “Let’s just go, you’re all depressing me.”

They stand and gather their belongings as Asahi says something about prefect duties and bids them goodbye. Nishinoya and Tanaka take the opportunity to challenge Bokuto and Kuroo to a race back to the castle, and their competitive nature prevents them from passing up even the most senseless of challenges. Tanaka counts them down, and they run from the stands and over the grounds with record speed.

Daichi sighs, and Suga can sense that it’s laced with fondness. They reach the grass at the edge of the pitch and make their way across the grounds.

“So, Fifth Year, huh?” Daichi begins, and Suga looks at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Is that how you start a conversation?” He laughs softly and Daichi blushes.

“Shut up. I’m just trying to talk to you. This year is going to be crazy, I’m not sure when we’ll get the chance to talk again!” he says, throwing his arms overdramatically in the air and giving Suga a well-acted look of desperation. He succeeds in making the Slytherin laugh again.

“We talk every day, Daichi. I will always make time for you.” His words come out erring on the side of too honest, but if Daichi notices, Suga can’t tell. “But yes, this year is a big one. We have OWLs coming up in no time at all. And it’s your last year to make a bid for the captaincy.” He nudges Daichi’s arm with his elbow, and Daichi chuckles softly.

“Yeah.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, though Daichi is sure he can’t recall a silence that was ever uncomfortable with Suga. At least, not since their second year. The sun is setting in earnest now, and the sky is painted over with oranges and golds that take Daichi’s breath away. He is about to make a comment about it when Suga speaks again.

“So, I know you’re just going to get frustrated when I ask,” Suga starts, and allows himself to trail off.

“I won’t get frustrated.”

“How are the dreams, Daichi?”

“Okay, maybe a little frustrated.” Suga lets his eyes widen for a moment before catching the look of amusement on Daichi’s face. He sends a light slap to Daichi’s shoulder, which the black-haired boy dodges only half-heartedly.

“I know you don’t like talking about them, and I’m sorry, but it looks like you haven’t slept in days, Daichi.” Suga nibbles on his bottom lip and refuses to meet Daichi’s eyes.

“Suga,” Daichi says, ceasing his walking. Suga notices a moment later and stops, giving Daichi the opportunity to plant firm hands on his shoulders and spin him around so they can speak face to face. “I am fine. If I was not fine, I would ask for help.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Suga says defiantly and okay, maybe he had a slight point. Daichi did tend to have a pride about these sort of things that Suga couldn’t understand. Daichi refuses to acknowledge this accusation, however, and presses on.

“Promise to stop worrying about me, I’m fine.”

“I do not promise.” Suga tilts his chin up in playful defiance. Daichi stands on his tiptoes to get Suga to look at him again, but Suga tilts his head to the other side. When Daichi shifts to match his gaze, Suga whips his head down to stare at the ground. Laughing, Daichi releases his shoulders and Suga takes the opportunity to look at him again.

“I appreciate your worry, Suga, but it’s not necessary. I will be fine. And I promise, if it gets too bad, you will absolutely be the first to know, okay?” Daichi draws his eyebrows together in concern, hoping his expression conveys his sincerity to Suga, who has begun chewing on his lips again. It is quiet for a moment before Suga begins to nod.

“Okay. I’ll let it slide. For now.”

* * *

 

As far as detentions go, Hinata thinks he got the short end of the stick. Not only does he have to spend his night with Kageyama of all people, but he has to spend it in a dimly-lit dungeon that was cold enough to warrant a full set of robes in the daytime and which could double as a deep-freezer at night. He can think of roughly four million three hundred thousand six hundred and seventy two things he would rather be doing at this very moment, and he passes the time by naming each and every one.

He’d rather be petting a cat.

He’d rather be parading down Knockturn Alley at midnight in a muggle bathing suit.

He’d rather be eating ice cream.

He’d rather donate his body to the Department of Mysteries for classified experimentation.

He’d rather….

Hinata is broken from his thoughts by the sound of Kageyama mumbling behind him. On this particular night, they had been tasked with working together to organize the school’s potions stock. It was a job that was expected to take them around three hours if they worked diligently but Hinata had admitted he wasn’t even sure what that word meant. Instead, they had agreed to work alone, keeping their distance from one another and dividing the stock as to insure no accidental contact occurred between them whatsoever. They were not, under any circumstances, going to work together, even if it meant that they would be here until classes began the next morning. Looking around, Hinata thinks that it’s a real possibility, given that the school’s potions stock was housed in its own room approximately the size of a typical classroom, with shelves lining every wall, floor-to-ceiling. There were probably three to four thousand different jars in here, Hinata guesses, but he’s not sure. He’s not very good at math.

The grumbling continues, and it’s beginning to grate on Hinata’s nerves.

“Why are you making so much noise?” He turns away from the jar of snail slime he had just placed on the shelf to stare at the back of Kageyama’s head. The other boy must feel him, because he whips his head around and focuses on Hinata with a glare.

“Mind your own business,” he bites, turning to face Hinata fully.

“Your annoying noises are my business when they’re annoying me.”

Kageyama looks like he’s biting the inside of his cheeks, and Hinata braces for the beginning of the shouting match that’s inevitable now that they’ve broken the no-contact agreement. He squares up his shoulders and stares Kageyama down but, to Hinata’s surprise, Kageyama releases the flesh between his teeth and lowers his eyes to the floor.

“In alphabetical order, do you put words that are one word before words that are two?” He seems to be asking his shoes the question, and if Hinata hadn’t seen his mouth moving, he might not have even known Kageyama said a word. Dumbfounded, he strains his neck forward and tilts his head, like a dog confused by a sudden noise.

That wasn’t what he was expecting at all.

“Huh?” He asks dumbly, allowing the fists he subconsciously balled at his sides to loosen.

“If you have a word that’s one word,” Kageyama begins again, this time louder and through clenched teeth. He’s still looking at the floor. “Does that word go before or after a word that’s two words if they’re back to back in alphabetical order?”

This time, Hinata isn’t confused by his speaking (though he does still feel like he’s going to wake up from some strange dream on the floor of the potions cupboard, having been knocked over the head by an irate Kageyama) as much as he is confused by the question he’s asking. So he tries to understand again.

“Wait, what?”

This sets Kageyama off. He turns around and slams the jar back on the shelf with a loud grunt of, “Nevermind, dumbass.”

Hinata isn’t sure why it’s so important to him, but he’s unwilling to let the question go unanswered.

“No, wait. I just don’t understand the question.”

“You’re making fun of me,” is the reply that comes directed toward a shelf of potions ingredients, and Hinata feels a strange jolt in his stomach that he can’t put a name to.

“No, I’m not, honest,” he says, walking to where Kageyama is standing. It’s a risky move and he knows there’s a good possibility that Kageyama will whip around and push him back to his side of the room.

He’s pleasantly surprised when Kageyama just gestures between two jars on the shelf.

“There’s lacewing and lacewing flies. I don’t know the difference and I don’t know what goes first.”

Hinata studies the jars carefully. He’s not quite sure either. Looking around, he finds no bottles or vials in the immediate vicinity that could provide an example of a solution to the problem.

“Uh,” he begins. “I dunno. I would say lacewing because there’s nothing after if but also flies starts with ‘f’ instead of not having a word so…” He’s confused himself. “Did you ever go to muggle school? I think they teach this there.”

Kageyama shakes his head helplessly at him.

“No, I’m a pureblood. Grew up in a wizarding village.”

They both stare at the shelf. Hinata gives him a look and shrugs and Kageyama nods, arranging the jars carelessly and continuing down the line. Satisfied, Hinata moves back to his side of the room.

He’s surprised to say the least. It almost felt like he had had a real conversation with Kageyama, and he wasn’t yet bleeding or bruised. They had been able to communicate and solve a problem without fighting each other. His eyes widen at the realization, and something in his brain tells him it would be a good idea to press his luck.

“So,” he begins, letting the word hang in the air for a moment. “You grew up in a wizard community?”

“Oh,” Kageyama grunts, clearly surprised by the conversation. “Uh, yeah. Just north of here, actually.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah.”

That went well, Hinata thinks. He opens his mouth again.

“I uh….I grew up in a muggle community, even though I’m a pureblood.”

Kageyama turns around to give him a genuinely surprised look.

“Oh, really?”

Hinata nods.

“Yeah. I mean, I never went to school or anything. My mom told everyone she homeschooled us but we just learned magic stuff.”

Kageyama acknowledges Hinata’s words with a slow bop of his head, and turns back to his shelf. For them to have had a civil conversation was some sort of miracle, Hinata thinks. Maybe they were making progress. Maybe Kageyama had finally learned to let go of things, like an eager-to-learn First Year accidentally miscalculating a spell on their first try and accidentally hexing someone. Accidentally. Maybe-

Hinata’s train of thought is cut off when Kageyama speaks again.

“That explains a lot.”

Instantly, Hinata feels a flush crawl up his cheeks and reach the edge of his recently restored orange hair. Of course Kageyama couldn’t act like a normal human being for any amount of time.

“I’m not even bad at magic, Kageyama!” Hinata yells, allowing his fury to escape him through his words. “I’m still learning. You are too! You’re just too arrogant to admit you make mistakes!”

Kageyama takes a slow step towards him, and Hinata appreciates the fear that he was feeling in his chest.

“No one in this entire school, in any grade,” Kageyama emphasizes, “is as bad at magic as you.”

Hinata snarls, and pushes sharply on Kageyama’s chest, sending him stumbling backwards. He sees what is going to happen before it happens, but he can’t stop it. At once, two whole shelves give out from the force of Kageyama’s fall, and all of their contents go crashing to the floor.

Hinata expects retaliation, but he gets none. Instead, Kageyama steadies himself on his feet and surveys the mess behind him. Nothing is overtly bubbling or oozing, and aside from an odor like rotting garbage in the air, nothing seems to be amiss. Aside from the two shelves missing from the cabinet. Hinata decides to overlook those.

“I will make it clear that this is your fault,” Kageyama says with a calmness that is almost scarier than if he were to be shouting. Hinata chokes on his own breath when Kageyama gets so close to his face, he thinks they’ll wind up brushing noses. “No one will even think twice because only someone as absolutely infuriatingly dull as you could pull this one off.”

Kageyama takes a step back, eyes Hinata with a look that he doesn’t recognize but that he understands is bad, and turns on his heel to leave Hinata, the mess, and the potions cupboard behind.

And to think, Hinata could have sworn they were making progress.

Hinata leaves the mess on the floor, not quite sure what to do with the soiled ingredients and unwilling to singlehandedly clean up a mess that both he and Kageyama had been there to witness. He turns the corner of the dungeon, mumbling to himself, and bumps headfirst into a large solid form.

His first instinct is to shriek. The form shrieks back.

“Oh, Hinata!” the form laughs, clutching its chest and catching its breath. Hinata looks up and….continues to look up until he notices sleek grey hair and large green eyes.

“Dammit, Lev. What are you doing here?”

“I figured you’d be getting out of detention soon, and I was going to walk you back to the Common Room. I know a shortcut!” He looks at Hinata excitedly and on any other day, Hinata would have matched his excitement at the prospect of exploring the castle outside of going to classes or meeting with professors. Right now, however, Hinata only manages a small smile.

“Okay. Lead me, Lev!”

“Bad detention?” Lev asks after they’ve started walking. He’s taking them left when they should have turned right at the end of the corridor leading out of the potions dungeons. Hinata desperately wishes he had brought a sweater as he tightens his arms around himself. He can tell from the drip, drip, drip that they are very far under the lake at this point, which only adds to the chill in the air. Breathing out, he notices the faint fog leaving his lips, and shivers.

“It was with stupid Kageyama. Of course it was a bad detention.”

Lev eyes him carefully.

“I don’t like seeing you fight with people, Hinata. It makes you sad.”

“I am not sad over Kageyama,” he says indignantly.

“I don’t know how people don’t like you,” Lev adds, ignoring Hinata’s protest. “You’re very nice to me and the rest of the Hufflepuffs. You get along with those two Gryffindor Fourth-Years who are always running around all crazy, even the one who looks really scary. You’re a nice person.”

It’s the fact that this is a serious source of contemplation for Lev that makes Hinata so grateful to have a friend like him. He suddenly feels warm, and leans into Lev’s side as they walk to show that he appreciates Lev’s assessment of him. Smiling, they continue walking in silence, listening to the water overhead and watching their breaths dissipate into the air.

Where they’re walking now, the torches that usually line the walls of the dungeons are getting farther and farther away from each other. The effect is eerie, overtaking the corridors with darkness broken by just a few spots of light that lend themselves to creating the illusion of shadows that are not there. This time when Hinata shivers, it’s not entirely the cold that’s to blame. He nudges Lev and takes out his wand, and Lev does the same.

“ _Lumos_.” Hinata turns to face the taller boy.

“Where are you taking me, Haiba?”

“Oh, it’s just past here.” He doesn’t know when they started whispering. This part of the dungeon is not used for classes, Hinata is sure, and he knows that he’s never been down this way before. In fact, he doesn’t even really know if students were allowed here at all. He’s about to ask Lev just how he found his shortcut, when he hears someone whisper.

“What did you say?” He asks Lev, and Lev allows his mouth to drop open.

“I thought you were talking, Hinata.”

The whisper comes again. Shaking, Hinata lowers his wand and extinguishes the light, beckoning Lev to do the same. They walk a few feet ahead and notice a door to one of the few rooms lining the walls is open and emitting a faint orange glow. Immediately, Lev steps behind Hinata and curls himself over the smaller boy’s shoulders.

“Good plan, Lev. It’s not like you’re a billion feet taller than me,” Hinata whispers, rushed and annoyed. Lev doesn’t say anything, but his silence allows Hinata to hear the muttering coming from the room much better.

It sounds like spell work, Hinata recognizes. Each whisper now is punctuated by a brightly glowing green light, before the warm orange overtakes the room again. At least, that’s what Hinata can see through the sliver of space between the door and the wall from where he is standing. He inches closer, ignoring Lev and the protests that are coming in the form of terrified whimpering and nails digging into his shoulders.

Silently, and ever so carefully, he pushes the door open just a crack more and positions himself to see inside the room.

Inside, the room is entirely empty aside from four students’ desks, one ancient-looking chalkboard, and a small figure positioned with their back towards the door. Hinata can faintly see that the figure is wearing a Hogwarts sweater of some sort, and is holding a wand aloft.

Their chest rises and falls as they inhale slowly, and then they mutter a spell Hinata can’t decipher. A green light shoots from the tip of their wand, hitting the blackboard. Hinata is aware that he’s holding a breath and waiting for the result of the spell but…there’s nothing. He can sense the figure is frustrated, too, by the way they tug on the blonde hair that falls very nearly to their shoulders.

Above him, Hinata can hear Lev’s shallow breathing and he feels that Lev’s grip is tightening by the second.

“Calm down,” Hinata whispers, prying the boy’s slender fingers from his shirt.

The figure raises their wand again and takes another deep breath. This time, when the green spell hits the chalkboard, it turns the green surface a shiny metallic silver before causing it to shatter into so many pieces, it looks like dust as it falls to the floor. Hinata is amazed, and he tries very hard to be quiet, but he doesn’t notice he’s made a noise until it’s too late.

The noise, of course, being a none-too-subtle cry of “UOOAHH.”

The figure turns, startled, and raises a wand at the door. Without thinking, Hinata throws the door open and raises his hands in what appears to be surrender. He can see more clearly now that the figure in the middle of the room is a boy about his own age, and that he wears a green and silver tie under his grey sweater. Behind Hinata, Lev has made no attempt to move.

“Who are you?” The boy asks, lowering his wand only slightly upon recognizing Hinata and Lev to be students and not someone with any power to reprimand or punish.

“Hinata Shouyou, Third Year, Hufflepuff,” Hinata says, and then points to Lev. “Haiba Lev, same thing.”

The boy considers them carefully.

“What are you doing here?”

“Uh, sorry, that’s my fault.” Hinata is surprised to hear Lev’s voice. “I led him on a shortcut that wasn’t really so short.”

“How much did you see?” the boy asks next, lowering his wand further. He looks tired, Hinata thinks, and uncomfortable with their presence. He almost feels offended, until he remembers what they’ve just caught him doing. Hinata can see how their current situation might take a toll on someone.

“We saw you do that really cool spell with the chalkboard!” Lev offers, gaining some of his voice’s usual excited tone.

“Yeah, it was really cool…uh…what’s your name?” Hinata asks. The boy watches him for a moment.

“Kozume…Kozume Kenma.”

“It was really cool Kozume!” Hinata sends the boy a smile, but the blonde just looks nervous.

“Kenma,” he corrects. “You can’t tell anyone what you saw, Lev, Shouyou. I could get in a lot of trouble.” He studies them each carefully, silently pleading with them.

“We won’t tell,” Hinata assures, and he can see the boy’s shoulders release some of the tension they’ve been holding on to since Hinata accidentally made their presence known. Kenma looks like he’s going to say something else when Hinata adds, “But you gotta teach us!”

If Hinata had to put words to the look on Kenma’s face, he would say that Kenma is currently considering letting the Giant Squid eat him instead.


	2. Daichi Doesn't Want to Talk About It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I'm really sorry! I meant to have this chapter up ages ago, but then I wrote and deleted it (literally) 7 times. As it is, I'm still not so sure I'm happy with it, but I didn't want to keep anyone waiting any longer!
> 
> In any case, I wanted to thank everyone for the great response to the first chapter!

“Tell me again why we agreed to help Asahi train Hinata?” Kuroo asks, leaning forward on his broom and looking at Daichi with an expression that Daichi thinks is the exact opposite of amusement. He waves a hand at the Keeper.

“You know why.”

“Actually, all I know is you owed Asahi a favor and volunteered our time. And then asked if we would help. In that order.”

“And that’s all you need to know.”

Kuroo grumbles, but refrains from saying anything else as they both watch the scene unfolding in front of them.

Hinata is, for the third time this practice, hanging upside down from the handle of his broom while Asahi and Nishinoya try to figure out the best way to right him without losing their own balance. Tanaka and Bokuto gave up trying to help early on, after Bokuto accidentally caused Hinata to lose his grip and sent him crashing to the ground with alarming speed. Thankfully, Kuroo is exceptionally fast on a broom and managed to save him before the situation became too dire, though everyone agreed that perhaps Bokuto wasn’t the best person to be a part of the Hinata Rescue Team.

“Asahi said he was a little rough,” Kuroo starts, watching as Asahi uses a single hand to swing Hinata back over the handle he was just hanging from. “Daichi, this kid can’t even stay on a broom for more than ten minutes.”

“I’m aware.” Daichi runs his hands over tired eyes and sighs. Asahi really had undersold the immensity of the situation to them, probably on purpose, knowing the Gryffindors would never agree to this sort of undertaking if they were fully informed. Despite this, Daichi can’t really blame him, understanding that there is no way Asahi would have been capable of training Hinata on his own. Even with six people training him, there is still the real possibility that Hinata wouldn’t be a suitable fit for the Hufflepuff team, and that all of their hard work would go to waste.

Daichi still isn’t so sure why Asahi wants to train Hinata so badly, figuring there is probably at least one other person in Hufflepuff who could more competently serve as Seeker. When he’s pressed, the most Asahi will reveal is that he thinks Hinata has ‘promise’ or that he is working off of a ‘gut feeling’ about Hinata’s abilities. If this were anyone else, Daichi would have called bullshit and outright refused to spend his time on what was shaping up to be such a lost cause.

It isn’t anyone else, though, Daichi reminds himself. It’s Asahi, who never asked his friends for anything despite giving so much of himself at every opportunity. Asahi, who he really did owe more than just a few hours of Quidditch practice. As soon as he had asked Daichi for a small favor, Daichi had already resolved to say yes, regardless of what was being asked of him.

He sighs as Hinata spins himself around in a full circle trying to get eyes on the practice snitch, which seems to be taunting him as it orbits his head.

“Let’s call it quits before he makes himself too dizzy,” Tanaka calls, watching Hinata twirl with a worried sort of interest.

Daichi nods, and Asahi curls one large hand around the snitch, stopping Hinata’s movement with the other. Everyone aside from Hinata makes it back to the grass with ease, dismounting their brooms and watching as the orange-haired boy struggles behind them. He can’t seem to fly in a straight line, and instead zigs and zags his way to the ground before dismounting with a thud and a roll.

Kuroo is about to go over and help him up when Hinata gets to his feet on his own and rushes behind one of the large navy flags covering the base of Ravenclaw’s section of the stands. It’s only a moment before the group can hear the distinct sounds of retching and groaning and the gush of stomach contents hitting the ground.

“I don’t think we stopped him early enough,” Nishinoya says, frowning.

Daichi turns to Asahi, who is currently biting his bottom lip and staring at the flags Hinata has disappeared behind. When he feels Daichi looking at him, he turns back around and meets his gaze, eyebrows furrowed together.

“So,” he starts, letting the vowel drag out. “How much work do you think he’ll need?”

Daichi takes a deep breath, and offers Asahi an apologetic look, but doesn’t actually say anything in response. Lucky for Asahi, the rest of the Gryffindor team is more than happy to vocalize what they’re thinking.

“I don’t know if we have this kind of time,” Tanaka says honestly, and Nishinoya nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I mean. Shouyou’s cool, but…” he shrugs.

“Maybe it would be better if he tried next year?” Kuroo says, and smiles slightly, though the small dose of positivity is completely negated when Bokuto declares, “He’s hopeless.”

Asahi’s face falls and he sighs.

“Sorry for wasting your time, guys. I can keep up with him on my own. I know it’s going to be a lot of work but I really need this to work out. Thank you for trying.”

Daichi knows he’s going to regret what he says next before he even says it, but he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“No. We’re still in this.”

The rest of the boys stare at Daichi with open mouths, except for Kuroo who looks at him as though to say, _are you kidding me_?

“He’s not hopeless,” Daichi shoots at Bokuto, who just shrugs and continues to look unconvinced. “If Asahi needs him on his team, he’ll get on the team. Just keep thinking of this as extra time to practice.”

It’s at this point that Hinata stumbles out from where had been hiding, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and clutching his stomach. He stares at them with an unreadable expression and opens his mouth to speak before shutting it again, then repeating the action.

“Spit it out, Hinata,” Tanaka mumbles, slapping a hand to the boy’s shoulder. Hinata’s skin goes a shade paler with the force of the contact, and his grip on his stomach tightens.

“On second thought,” Kuroo says, taking note of the change and letting his mouth twist into an expression of disgust. “Please don’t spit it out. Keep it all in, there, Shorty.”

“I just don’t know what to say,” Hinata finally rasps when Tanaka removes his hand. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“Make it up to us next practice by actually catching the snitch,” Bokuto mumbles, frustration more evident in his voice than Daichi would like.

Daichi watches Hinata’s face contort in confusion, and he looks to Asahi for an answer. Asahi, just as bewildered at the Gryffindors’ decision as Hinata, shakes his head and gestures to Daichi.

“Really?” Hinata asks, trying to confirm that he’s understood the situation correctly.

“Yes, but we won’t keep wasting our time like this for nothing,” Daichi looks at him with the most serious expression he can muster as Hinata begins to beam, the color returning to his face. Before Daichi knows what’s happened, Hinata has wrapped his arms around Daichi’s middle and, just microseconds later, runs off towards the castle before anyone changes their mind.

“Now, you owe _us_ favors, Sawamura,” Kuroo mumbles, picking up his broom and refusing to look at Daichi on his way back to the castle. The rest of the team nods, following Kuroo and patting Daichi on the back as they go.

Daichi turns to Asahi, meaning to say something before thinking better of it and turning on his heels, leaving the larger boy to stand in the middle of the pitch on his own.

* * *

 

Kuroo wonders if anyone’s noticed he’s gone yet.

It’s past midnight, and instead of being curled up in bed like he’s supposed to be, he’s in the dungeons with a blanket wrapped around him, watching Kenma tap his wand against the ground. He’s enchanted some muggle playing cards, and he shifts them around idly with his wand, playing a game Kuroo doesn’t understand. They’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes now, and Kenma has made no attempt to explain to Kuroo just what exactly was important enough to warrant dragging him out of bed with little to no warning on a Wednesday night.

“Kenma,” he starts, breaking the other boy’s concentration. Kenma startles, accidentally waving his wand and sending the playing cards flying in all directions around him.

He stares.

“Not that I don’t love your company,” Kuroo says honestly, drawing his blanket more tightly around himself, “but you sounded like you really needed to talk.”

“Yeah,” is all Kenma says, picking at the hem of his sweater.

 Kuroo sighs, and runs his hands over his face. He’s not surprised that Kenma is behaving this way, but he is too tired to indulge him in his games right now. Though Kenma had the tendency to be much too shy with everyone else, he only avoided conversations with Kuroo when the outcomes of said conversations held some amount of importance. In some cases, it could take Kuroo days of poking and prodding to get Kenma to open up. When Kenma had first been sorted into Slytherin, Kuroo endured two weeks of his labored sighs, evasive answers, and half-hearted moping before he finally snapped and forced Kenma to tell him why exactly Slytherin bothered him so much.

He doesn’t have two weeks this time. He guesses he might have thirty minutes before his fingers freeze solid.

“Are you in trouble?” Kuroo asks, trying to get the important questions out of the way first.

“No, I don’t think so,” Kenma mumbles, still playing with his clothes.

“You don’t think so? I’m gonna need you to work with me, here, Kenma.”

Kenma sighs, and looks up from his sweater, locking eyes with Kuroo.

“I’m not in any real trouble,” he begins, eyes widening with sincerity in the hopes that Kuroo will believe him. Kuroo doesn’t, not really, but he doesn’t let Kenma know that.

“I was down here the other night, practicing defensive magic, and I got caught.”

Kuroo blinks at him slowly.

“I don’t know where to start with that,” Kuroo says eventually, letting his shoulders droop slightly. “What do you mean by defensive magic?”

Kenma shifts in his seat, putting his wand in his back pocket and letting his eyes fall to the floor. He takes his time in answering, clearly trying to find the best way to phrase what he wants to say without giving away too much information. The thought of Kenma trying so hard to hide things from Kuroo makes the older boy’s stomach flip uncomfortably.

“I was just…practicing some things that we don’t learn in school.”

If it were any earlier in the night, Kuroo would press for more information, as Kenma’s behavior is only indicative of the fact that Kuroo probably has reason to worry about him. Despite this, he’s too tired and too cold to care properly at the moment. He thinks, rather callously, that if Kenma wants to get himself in trouble and hide it from Kuroo, then maybe Kenma deserves what’s coming to him.

He immediately regrets thinking it.

“Okay, fine,” he snaps, causing Kenma to look up at him through his lashes. He looks guilty. “Who caught you?”

“Two third year Hufflepuffs,” Kenma answers immediately, trying to calm some of the rising anger he senses creeping into Kuroo’s voice. “Lev and Shouyou.”

“Are you kidding? Shorty caught you?”

Kenma nods, tilting his head slightly.

“You are so lucky it wasn’t someone else, Kenma,” Kuroo sighs, dropping his anger for a moment and replacing it with an exhausted sounding worry. Kenma isn’t sure which he dislikes more.

“I know,” he whispers.

“You could really get yourself into trouble.” Kuroo almost sounds desperate now, gripping his blanket with all the force he doesn’t feel comfortable directing entirely at Kenma.

Kenma shuffles over from his seated position on the ground to where Kuroo is leaning against an old school desk and sits on the desktop. Kuroo doesn’t look at him, still trying to manage his emotions, but he lets Kenma lean against him and, after a few silent moments, he offers the smaller boy a corner of the blanket.

“I know, Kuro,” Kenma whispers, reverting to the familiar nickname he knows has a calming effect on the Gryffindor. Kuroo looks at the top of his head where it rests against his arm, and smiles despite himself. Kenma’s hair is still badly dyed from their fits of experimental magic in Kenma’s first year, though his dark natural roots are shining through more and more each day. Still, Kenma’s made no attempt to change it back to its original state and Kuroo thinks that, in a way, this suits him more.

“So Shorty and Lev caught you. I’m just guessing they didn’t threaten to go to the headmaster?” he asks.

Kenma hums in agreement.

“They just want me to teach them some magic.”

“They want you to teach them in exchange for their silence? I think that’s blackmail, Kenma.”

He can feel the smaller boy shrug against him.

“And you’re going to do it?”

Kenma says nothing, but leans into Kuroo more and shivers. It really is too cold to be down in the dungeons at this hour, but Kuroo is minding less and less with each inch that Kenma cuddles closer.

Kuroo draws his arm out from between their bodies, and rests it on Kenma’s shoulders.

“I…don’t know.” The way Kenma says them, the words leave a strange tension in the air. It takes Kuroo a moment to realize that Kenma’s attempting to seek his approval.

Unfortunately, Kuroo isn’t sure he can give his approval with any confidence. Hinata and Lev surely wouldn’t be easy to teach, he thinks, and Kenma isn’t the most patient person. Would Kenma really be able to instruct with the special kind of care necessary for the two overly excitable and magically inept Hufflepuffs? Kuroo doubts it. Even if Kenma got control of the situation and Hinata and Lev proved themselves competent enough to be taught the type of spells Kuroo was sure they’d want to learn, what if something went wrong? How would they clean up the magical messes and broken bones that were almost certainly inevitable in this type of situation?

Kuroo is about to say as much when he catches sight of Kenma peeking up at him out of the corner of his eye. He knows he’s waiting for Kuroo’s response, and it’s at that moment that he realizes that Kenma wouldn’t be asking if he wasn’t already set on going through with his plan anyway. Kenma, who never puts in more effort than is absolutely necessary, is actively taking on the daunting task of teaching Hinata and Lev.

 He could say no, and Kuroo is reasonably certain that the Hufflepuffs are not the type to turn around and retaliate.  Kuroo is also reasonably certain that Kenma is perceptive enough to know this fact on his own.

Even with the understanding that there’s no real consequence of Kenma refusing the two boys’ request, Kuroo can’t bring himself to crush this strange desire in his best friend.

At least, not until he figures out exactly what’s going on in Kenma’s head.

“Hinata is a trainwreck,” he says, and it’s understood that this is as close to agreement as Kenma is going to get right now. “We’re trying to train him to be a Seeker, as a favor to Azumane in Hufflepuff, and the kid is a total mess in everything he does.”

“He seems like the type,” Kenma says with a hum, shifting to rest his head on Kuroo’s chest. It’s almost a reflex when Kuroo lifts his hand off of Kenma’s shoulder to play with the tips of his hair.

“We should get back to bed. It’s too cold to be here, and I’d like to get some sleep before classes,” Kuroo reminds, and he gently tilts his shoulders, giving Kenma the hint to get up. They allow the blanket to fall on the desk behind them, and the cold air of the dungeons is like an assault to their skin. Kenma shivers again, more violently than before, and Kuroo drapes the blanket over him before pressing a hand to his back and leading him from the classroom.

“Is it because of Lev?” Kuroo asks suddenly, a smile forming on his lips. Kenma looks up at him in confusion. “Hoping to get on his good side? I think you have a thing for tall guys.”

Kenma wraps the blanket around his neck, but Kuroo doesn’t miss the blush forming around his hairline or over the bridge of his nose. He laughs quietly, keeping his arm on Kenma’s back as they walk.

“Maybe…” Kenma starts in the best teasing tone he can muster, considering. He glances quickly at Kuroo before setting his eyes back on the long corridor in front of him. “Maybe I do.”

Kuroo stops laughing, but his grip on Kenma tightens and the smile on his face becomes harder to remove.

* * *

 

_Daichi is readying himself for death._

_No matter how much force Daichi exerts, he can’t make his legs move any faster. He thinks he even feels himself slowing down, though the thing behind him sure as hell doesn’t falter in its movements. The gap between them is shrinking by the minute, and no matter how hard Daichi huffs and pushes off the ground with his feet, his speed remains constant, and it’s far too slow to propel him to any kind of safety._

_Not that he’s sure any safety exists in this forest._

_He can hear the thing that’s chasing him breathing, though not in the same labored way that Daichi is breathing. It’s a menacing pant that Daichi hears right against his ear, causing him to shiver and groan, but when he looks the thing is nowhere to be found._

_It’s right next to him and not at all._

_Daichi can feel tears stinging the corners of his eyes and he wills himself to just keep sucking oxygen into his lungs, though it’s getting harder and harder each second. If he dropped right now, would he ever wake up?_

_He just needs to make it to the clearing._

_Except, tonight, the clearing won’t appear._

_He looks left and right, frantic like a caged animal, but there’s no telltale thinning of the thick trees that signals the end of his nightly journey. He takes a sharp right, but he can still hear the thing breathing in his ear, and he can feel the warmth of the air on his neck._

_He doesn’t register it when it happens, but he lets out a gross sobbing noise with each exhale._

_He won’t last much longer, he knows, and goddammit where is the clearing?_

_He’s sure it should be here. He’s sure he’s run enough. He’s sure the thing is gaining on him. He’s sure…._

_Daichi falls to his knees, choking on the breath his lungs are so desperate for but will not receive, and slumps face first into the thick green padding of moss on the forest floor._

* * *

 

When Daichi sits up in bed, he’s not really awake. If he were, he would have noticed Kuroo’s abandoned mattress, stripped of its comforter and its occupant, despite it being the small hours of the morning on a night before classes. If Daichi were awake, he’d probably be alarmed, and maybe leave the dorm in search of his housemate.

Instead, Daichi plants two bare feet on the floor and shuffles towards the room’s exit in nothing but his blue plaid boxers and a thin white t-shirt.

His eyes are open but they aren’t really seeing anything, and though his body moves through the Gryffindor common room with the practiced familiarity of having made the same trip hundreds of times before, Daichi’s not thinking at all about what he’s doing.

He moves silently through the portrait hole, making no noise to disturb the two Second Years who have fallen asleep on one of the plush green couches after a night of studying, and ignores the protests of the Fat Lady as he takes the staircase down to the floor below.

Once there he pivots on his heels and descends again, nearly catching an ankle between the grinding stone as the staircase shifts beneath his feet. He repeats the movements until he reaches the first level of the castle, and begins down a hallway, the floor of which chills his skin as he walks.

It isn’t until he’s been winding his way through the halls for over twenty minutes that Daichi is jolted into consciousness by a collision with something very large and undeniably solid.

That something is Asahi.

Daichi blinks slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim castle lighting. Beside him, large windows look out over the Hogwarts grounds, and he realizes that he’s almost made it outside in barely any clothes and with no recollection of getting himself into his current predicament.

He shivers. In front of him, Asahi looks at him as though he’s sprouted a screaming mandrake from the side of his neck.

“Daichi, wha-“ he starts, but doesn’t finish the thought and allows his mouth to hang open with the unspoken question. After a moment he begins gesturing half-heartedly to Daichi’s attire.

Daichi can’t honestly say he isn’t a little freaked out and a lot confused by his current state, but he really doesn’t need Asahi worrying about things that don’t concern him. He doesn’t like lying to his friends but it’s worked so far, and Daichi thinks it’s the best option he has.

“Sorry, Asahi,” he laughs, but if it sounds this hollow to his own ears, he can’t imagine he’s fooling anyone else. “I didn’t see you there. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to take a walk around.”

“Without your shoes?” Asahi raises both eyebrows.

“Must have forgotten them.”

“Did you forget your pants, too? And a jacket?”

Daichi knows he’s lost this round.

“I guess it is a bit drafty, huh?”

“Daichi,” Asahi says, low and vaguely threatening.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Daichi says suddenly, hoping to distract Asahi just long enough to figure a way out of the conversation.

“Oh, well, it was just Prefect duties. I had a couple Fourth Year girls ask me to check on a friend they thought might be trying to sneak out. Turns out she was, boyfriend broke up with her. It was a mess, she was crying so much, and I’m really not good with crying people so I asked her to….wait,” Asahi stops suddenly, narrowing his eyes. “Are you here because of the dreams, Daichi?”

Daichi sighs deeply, but it does nothing to relieve the tension building in his shoulders.

“I don’t know, actually,” he says. “I did have a dream before, but I just kind of wandered here. I’m not sure the two are connected.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I really wish you would-“ Asahi starts, but Daichi cuts him off with a frustrated grunt.

“Talk to someone, yes, I know. You and everyone else.”

“I’m sorry, Daichi.” Asahi wrings his hands in front of him, and Daichi instantly regrets snapping.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s just nothing to worry about, really.” He doesn’t really believe the statement, and Asahi believes it even less, but he can feel the conversation being dropped and he’s content with that fact.

“That’s not true,” Asahi says in perfect agreement with what Daichi expected. “At least promise me if it gets any worse, you’ll tell me?”

 _Yeah, sure. I’ll just add you to the list,_ Daichi thinks bitterly.

He shuffles his bare feet on the stone floor of the hallway, and feels a painful numbness in his toes from lack of proper warding against the cold. All the lying and avoiding makes Daichi feel like the worst person in the world, and this terrible feeling is compounded by the realization that his friends only keep bothering him because they’re some of the best friends he could possibly ask for.

He groans and rubs a hand across the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I promise, Asahi. Now, can I go back to bed?”

Asahi looks him over and frowns. Without saying anything, he unbuttons the cardigan he’s wearing and slides it off his shoulders, draping it across Daichi’s frame instead.

“Oh, no, Asahi. I’m fine, I’m just-“ Daichi stammers, but he allows himself to be silenced with a single wave of Asahi’s hand.

“It’s freezing, Daichi. You’re in your underwear. Just take the sweater.”

Daichi nods and slips his arms into the fabric, still warm from being worn by the taller boy. It’s just slightly too big on Daichi, but it provides an odd sense of comfort, and he nuzzles into the cardigan without really thinking about it.

“I feel like a girl who’s been asked to wear her boyfriend’s Quidditch robes,” he says with faux disgust, examining the way the sleeves fall over his hands by at least two inches.

Asahi laughs softly.

“Do you want me to walk you back?” he asks kindly, and Daichi shakes his head.

“I can make it. Thank you for the sweater.”

Asahi nods wordlessly, little signs of worry still gracing his features, before turning and walking back in the direction from which he came. Daichi does the same, though the view outside one of the large windows next to him catches his eye. From where he is standing, he can see the lake and the way the moon shines off of the water’s calm surface. Just beyond the lake, he admires the trees on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, dense and dark even in the bright glow of the moon’s reflection. His eyes drag along the treetops, and he takes note of the way the shadows seem to sway over the grounds, despite it being a windless night.

He feels a tug in the pit of his stomach, and he shivers before beginning his trek back to the warmth and comfort of his bed.

* * *

 

Suga chops the leaves in front of him carefully, avoiding the stems full of blistering acid just as Professor Fir instructed them earlier. To Daichi’s left, Bokuto and Kuroo are acting like they didn’t receive the same set of instructions as everyone else. Bokuto holds his knife loftily in front of him, and watches as Kuroo bandages yet another burn gained from stabbing the stems of the plant rather than gently slicing through the leaves. As soon as he’s finished, Bokuto drives the knife into one of the flat purple plants carelessly, earning him a burn of his own.

“It’s more of a fluid motion,” Suga says warily, watching as Kuroo grabs the knife from Bokuto with the intention of continuing their work. “Much less…stabby.”

Kuroo hums in thought and nods, but continues to stab at the plant, albeit more slowly and with a roll of his wrist.

Suga sighs.

The morning sun is filtering through the glass panes of the greenhouse, making everything much brighter than Daichi strictly thinks it needs to be. He rubs his hands over his eyes and yawns quietly, pulling his robes tightly around him as Suga offers him the knife. He briefly explains how to cut the leaves effectively, but Daichi only catches a few words as his mind wanders up the main staircase of the castle and back to his bed. As he presses the silver tip of the knife to the leaf, a much deeper yawn escapes him, bluring his vision and causing him to puncture the thick green vein running directly up the center of the leaf.

“Ah!” he hisses as the acid from the leaf spurts out onto his skin, and he instantly regrets shunning the protective gloves Professor Fir offered them earlier, even if they do smell like moldy dragon skin.

“Is everything okay over there?” the Professor calls from where he is helping a Slytherin girl at the head of the long wooden table they’re all working on.

Suga looks at Daichi with a disappointed expression, but calls back, “Yes, Professor!”

“It didn’t get on you, did it?” Daichi asks softly, as he wipes off his hands and applies a coating of the burn salve sitting in a little stone pot between him and Bokuto.

Suga shakes his head, but doesn’t look at Daichi as he continues making perfect ribbons out of the leaves he’s working with. Daichi places his elbow on the table and rests his chin in his hands, content to let Suga work on his own. There’s no sense ruining both of their grades just to say he participated if Suga has everything under control.

When he yawns once more, he can’t help but notice the way Suga’s mouth straightens into a thin line or the way he tightens his grip on his knife.

“I’m sorry, Suga,” he says, standing upright once more and jutting a hand out to reach across the Slytherin. “Do you want me to take over for a while?”

Suga places the knife down gently, and rests his hands on the tabletop, digging his nails into the dark wood. Professor Fir is, thankfully, occupied with treating the burns of one of Suga’s housemates and does not notice the fact that they’ve stopped working.

“No, Daichi. I don’t want you falling asleep with a knife in your hand,” he says, voice low and tired.

Suga had a reputation for parenting his friends, and there were plenty of occasions that Daichi thought he’d rather confess every bad thing he’d ever done in his life to his real parents than endure Suga’s wrath. It came only from a place of concern, Daichi knew, but Suga’s particular brand of concern was intimidating.

He almost wishes there were yelling involved this time around. The treatment Daichi is currently experiencing is the Suga equivalent of “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.”

“Look, Suga, I’m sorry,” Daichi begins, knowing he’s going to get nowhere with trying to make excuses for himself this time. Instead, he tries to tread on the outside of the truth for as long as he can. “I had a late night.”

“Because you were probably up all night tossing and turning with the nightmares you insist are nothing to worry about,” Suga whispers, rolling his eyes. He tenses and relaxes his hands over and over, scraping his nails against the wood.

Daichi offers an apologetic half smile, but doesn’t correct him.

“Alright!” Professor Fir says to the class, turning everyone’s attention to the front of the greenhouse. “I hope everyone’s had a chance to get their hands on a Welsh Firesap leaf. Pretty nasty as far as plants go, but not a problem as long as you wear your protective gloves!”

Daichi can hear Bokuto whimpering in pain next to him.

“So, now that we’ve prepared them for potion making, let’s see who’s done their reading. Who can tell me what the properties of the Firesap plant are?”

Suga raises his hand, and Professor Fir nods at him.

“Firesap plants are generally a deep purple color, and carry a poisonous liquid in their veins. It’s not really sap, but it has the power to leave a sort of burn on those who touch it. The plant’s leaves are used in potions to extend the longevity of a potion’s effects.”

“Very good, Sugawara! Take five points for Slytherin,” Professor Fir says, clearly amused, and Suga practically glows with the praise.

“Five points for being a nerd,” Kuroo mumbles with a smile, earning a glare from Daichi and a small giggle from Suga.

“Alright, then. Why do we need to slice the leaves of the plant rather than adding them to potions whole? Sawamura?”

Daichi doesn’t even realize his name has been called until everyone in the room turns to look at what is taking him so long to answer. He blushes, a rarity for Daichi, and wracks his brain for the answer to the question. Naturally, it would have probably been helpful to do the reading instead of just falling asleep on the open textbook, Daichi thinks. He also isn’t sure exactly what the professor asked, and tries to think back to a few moments ago when the words left his mouth, but all he hears in his head is his own heartbeat.

Suga’s eyes widen in panic, and he covertly nudges Daichi’s ribs with his elbow but it doesn’t seem to do anything other than make Daichi acutely aware of the seconds that have come and gone since he was prompted to answer the question.

“Sawamura,” Professor Fir says slowly, breaking the silence. “Have you done the reading?”

Unsure of what to say, Daichi stammers, “O-of course, Professor.”

“Then what is your answer?”

The sun beats down on the table through the glass of the greenhouse walls, illuminating the dust wafting through the air around the students gathered at the table, all of whom are still looking at Daichi. Bokuto fidgets next to him.

“I…I don’t know, Professor.”

Professor Fir squints at him through thick rimmed glasses, and hums.

“See me after class, Sawamura,” he says, finally, turning his attention to a Slytherin boy at the very back of the class. “Hiro, do you know the answer?”

Hiro does. Hiro probably did the reading. Hiro can probably focus in class because Hiro probably doesn’t spend his nights lying awake in an attempt not to wake up his roommates or else running through forests in his own head.

The rest of class passes by Daichi in a fog until Professor Fir is reminding them of their upcoming exam, and students are brushing dirt off their schoolbags before slinging them over their shoulders. He doesn’t even look at Suga or Bokuto or Kuroo as he grabs his own bag and makes his way to the front of the class where Professor Fir is finishing up a conversation with a Fifth Year Gryffindor girl.

When Professor Fir notices Daichi, he lets out a low hum and crosses his arms over his chest.

Daichi shrinks back just a little.

“Did you actually do the reading?” the Professor asks, dropping his arms to his sides with a sigh.

“No, Professor,” Daichi admits, curling his hands into fists against his thighs. “I…uh. I fell asleep before I could finish.”

Professor Fir creases his eyebrows gently.

“What is going on, Daichi? Don’t think I didn’t notice Sugawara doing all the work for you today. And it wasn’t just today either. Something’s been off about you for a week, now.”

“I’m sorry, Professor. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s not an answer to my question, Daichi.”

Daichi wants to vanish where he stands. He has no reason to lie to Professor Fir, who has been nothing but helpful and supportive to him since he took the boy under his wing as a First Year. In fact, Professor Fir often served as a primary sounding board for Daichi to vent to when he couldn’t talk to Suga or Asahi, or after he had already exhausted those options. Really, the professor standing in front of him is probably a good candidate for the “someone” everyone wants him to talk to about his dreams.

Still, something about admitting he needs help feels like giving up, and he’s not ready to do that just yet.

“I’m fine, Professor, honestly. I haven’t been sleeping very well, but I’m alright and I promise to pay more attention in class,” Daichi says with practiced confidence.

Professor Fir looks unconvinced, but nods anyway, and lays a hand on Daichi’s shoulder.

“You can talk to me about anything, Daichi. Please don’t feel like you can’t.”

Daichi realizes then that he’s getting pretty sick of being forced to lie to people. _Though not sick enough to stop, apparently_ , he thinks.

“I know, sir. Thank you.”

He turns around before the professor has a chance to say anything else, and flees the greenhouse. He wants to run up to the Gryffindor common room and nap before his next class, but this plan is thwarted by the presence of Suga just around the corner from the greenhouse exit.

Daichi groans.

“I’m happy to see you, too,” Suga snaps, but he can’t hide the hurt that crosses his features.

“I’m sorry, Suga,” Daichi says quickly, and Suga’s face softens slightly.

“Did he ask you why you can’t pay attention in class for more than three minutes?” Daichi can’t tell if Suga is teasing or genuinely pissed off, but he rolls his eyes all the same.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“And did you tell him about the dreams?” This is both a question and an accusation.

“No,” Daichi says, and it’s just a little too forceful.

Suga hums and tightens his grip on his bag.

“Fine. Have a good day, Daichi,” he says curtly, before speeding up his steps and walking back toward the castle without Daichi.

“Wait!” Daichi calls, realizing his mistake too late, but it’s no use.

He wants to feel worse about the situation, but he thinks that maybe that’s an emotion to process after a few hours of sleep.

* * *

 

Hinata is getting sick of spending every free moment he has in detention with Kageyama. Tonight, they’re atoning for the sin of wrecking the potions cupboard, despite the fact that Hinata has a Defense Against the Dark Arts exam in the morning that he’s surely going to fail, and Quidditch tryouts to practice for so that he can try not to embarrass himself again.

As it turns out, when you and your arch-nemesis cost Hogwarts over 400 Galleons in property damage, the Headmaster stops caring about silly things like your free time or your academic achievement.

They’ve been asked to individually clean every bottle in the potions classroom, with special instructions not to break anything under any circumstances. _So far, so good_ , Hinata thinks, rubbing a cotton cloth over a large dimpled jar. At this point, they’re about halfway through all of the jars and they haven’t said a single word to each other since Professor Hazel left the dungeons.

Hinata hears Kageyama’s intake of breath, readying himself to speak, and he freezes where he stands. _Please no, please no, please no_ , he pleads in his own head. He really didn’t have time for another detention this week.

“I’m done with these,” Kageyama finally says, voice rough from lack of use.  He gestures to a few hundred small tubes laid out on the professor’s desk in front of him. “Where are the others?”

Hinata reminds himself to breathe.

“There are some in the corner over there,” he says, as evenly as possible, and points to the far corner of the room where the last batch of jars is lined against the stone wall of the dungeon. Kageyama nods and walks over, grabbing some jars and a new cotton rag.

Hinata keeps his eyes on his own work, and doesn’t make the move to say anything else. He learned the hard way the last time that if he and Kageyama weren’t actively fighting, there was no reason to go poking around where no poking was warranted.

Kageyama hadn’t figured that out for himself yet.

“Hinata.”

“Uh, yeah?” Hinata says softly, as though his volume would be what damaged the delicacy of the current situation. He continues working through his glasses with care, though his hands shake slightly.

It’s quiet for a long time, and Hinata thinks that maybe Kageyama has forgotten he had said anything at all.

“Kageyama?” He reminds gently, voice still low and tone cautious.

“I’m sorry.”

Hinata chokes on his own spit, and nearly drops the glass in his hand.

“What are you sorry for, Kageyama?” He speaks slowly, and sets the glass in his hand down. Kageyama, though he’s speaking directly to Hinata, does not look at the smaller boy and takes no such precautions against breaking more of the Potions classroom supplies.

“I…I talked with Yamaguchi.”

“And?”

Kageyama turns then, and Hinata can see the muscles in his face twitching and tightening with the effort of controlling his speech.

“He said that if I really didn’t care about what you do, which I _don’t_ ,” he emphasizes, “then I have no reason to point out all of your flaws all the time.”

Hinata doesn’t know what to say to that, so he hums for Kageyama to continue.

“In his opinion, I may have been too mean. I don’t see what he’s talking about, but he suggested I apologize. So there’s my apology.”

Hinata knows he should just say thank you and move on, but he can’t seem to activate his common sense when he needs it the most.

“But you knew you were being really mean already, Kageyama. Why apologize now?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kageyama snaps, staring Hinata down with force. “If you don’t want the apology, don’t fucking take it, Dumbass!”

“No, no, no!” Hinata rushes to say. “I accept. Thank you for apologizing. I’m sorry, too.”

“For what?” Kageyama asks with no emotion.

“I fought back, which wasn’t nice either. So I’m sorry,” Hinata says as he shuffles his feet.

“Oh. Thanks,” Kageyama mumbles, returning to his cleaning.

Hinata couldn’t explain it, but he feels a sudden sense of calm that was not previously part of the dungeon atmosphere. They continue to work quietly, but the silence is less a forced decision by both of them and more the natural progression of their speech.

They finish about an hour after they say their apologies, and line the clean glasses up for restocking the store room. Hinata is used to being stuck in detention with Kageyama until one or two in the morning, so it is a pleasant surprise to note that they are done with their detention before ten o’clock at night.

They lock the door to the classroom behind them, and Hinata is set to return to the Hufflepuff common room when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Spinning around, he is met face to face with Kageyama, whose mouth twists sideways and whose eyes narrow down at Hinata until Hinata can’t even tell what color they are anymore.

“Wh-what is it, Kageyama?” Hinata stutters, confused and intimidated by the look on Kageyama’s face.

“Just so you know, we aren’t friends,” Kageyama says simply, releasing his grip on Hinata’s shirt.

“Oh…uh…well, duh, Kageyama.”

“Don’t think that my apology means that I want to hang out with you all the time,” Kageyama continues. “I don’t ever want to spend more time with you than necessary. We aren’t friends.”

Hinata nods slowly, and Kageyama turns to find his way to the Gryffindor common room.

From where he’s standing, Hinata can see Kageyama stiffen when he enthusiastically calls, “At least, not yet, Kageyama!”

* * *

 

Suga isn’t sure how he got saddled with both Lev and Kageyama this afternoon, but he’s decided babysitting is probably not a career he wants to invest any more of his life in. It’s freezing outside, a sharp contrast to the relatively pleasant weather of the week before, and he’s trying to fight off his own chill while simultaneously listening to Lev’s nonstop complaining and the incessant chattering of Kageyama’s teeth.

“Suga, do you know the charm for temporary insulation?” Lev asks, and it’s the fourth question of this kind he’s posed to Suga since they sat down about an hour ago.

“No, Lev, I don’t,” Suga responds, hoping he doesn’t sound pissed off. Not that Lev would notice, or stop asking questions if he did.

“Stop bothering him, Lev,” Kageyama snaps instead.

“But I’m coooooooold.”

“Then go back to the castle!”

“But I wanna watch Shouyou.”

“Lev, I swear-“

“Okay, enough,” Suga intervenes. The boys quiet down and snuggle into the scarves wrapped tightly around their necks.

Suga could have dealt with Lev alone, sure. He had agreed a few days ago to sit with Lev during practice, as the taller boy was very much excited to see his closest friend make it onto the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and wanted to be sure he supported Hinata every step of the way. Suga had to admit that it was kind of sweet, and he knew Hinata needed the extra encouragement, so he figured he could manage Lev for a few hours, no problem.

Then Kageyama happened. Or rather, Suga permitted Kageyama to happen. Suga had been waiting for Lev to finish up the last bit of his homework in the Great Hall when he spotted Kageyama sitting alone at the far end of the Gryffindor table. Normally, Suga was used to seeing him at mealtimes, surrounded by other Gryffindors, or at the very least flanked by Yamaguchi and his tall friend. Today, Kageyama sat in isolation, nose pressed too close to a textbook while the rest of the room chatted and laughed and paid him no mind.

The scene struck a nerve in Suga and he asked if Kageyama would like to sit with them and watch practice.

He hadn’t really been expecting Kageyama to agree, but here they are.

And Suga is too tired to deal with the excitement or combativeness from either of them, especially not together.

Ahead of them, high above the frosted grass of the pitch, Kuroo is successfully blocking the goals Tanaka is sending his way, goading him into trying harder with a smirk. Tanaka, naturally, is letting his competitive side get the best of him, and is trying to trip Kuroo up with increasingly more difficult plays.

On the other side of the field, Bokuto and Daichi are trying to direct Hinata to the snitch, which Hinata still can’t seem to get his hands on. Asahi hovers just below the redhead, arms ready to catch a falling body if necessary. Or when necessary. There was really no chance of Hinata staying on his broom the entire time.

Nishinoya darts around between the two groups, trying to stand on his broom, and it reminds Suga of the summer he and his family went surfing on vacation in America. Noya is not nearly as skilled as Suga’s instructor had been, though, and he stumbles quite a bit, sending waves of panic through Suga every few minutes.

“Come on, Hinata! You’re so close!” Bokuto calls as Hinata sticks a hand out in front of him, sights set on the tiny golden ball just over the tip of his broom handle. Suga notes that today, Bokuto is being much more cooperative with Hinata’s training, all enthusiastic grins and whooping when Hinata does something correctly.

Hinata throws his shoulder forward and balls his hand into a fist, but the snitch just flits higher above him, and veers off to the right. 

“Ah, almost,” Hinata says with a sigh, letting his hand fall to grip his broom once more.

“He almost had that one,” Kageyama says into his scarf, eyes focused on Hinata. Maybe it’s the lack of insult or the even tone he uses, but the comment makes Suga quirk an eyebrow in his direction.

“Once more!” Daichi orders, evidently unaffected by Hinata’s failures.

‘Once more’ turns into another hour of practice, which eventually deteriorates into a game of tag between Hinata and Nishinoya under the guise of building up Hinata’s speed. The other players have quarantined themselves to a small corner of the pitch, and continue to send Kuroo the Quaffle for blocking practice, though Suga can tell they’ve lost interest.

Every so often, Daichi lets out a yawn loud enough to wake the dead, and Suga rolls his eyes. This is nothing new. What is new, however, is the way Daichi glances behind him every so often, running a hand along the back of his neck and creasing his eyebrows together. He’s not really looking at anything, Suga thinks. The only thing behind him is another section of stands and, beyond that, the forest.

He thinks about asking Daichi what’s wrong, but decides against it.

 After their last disagreement, they had been quick to make up the very same night. Suga had gone to sit at the Slytherin table for dinner, which he could admit was a childish move, but Daichi had grabbed the hood of his robes before he could even swing a leg over the bench and roughly led him to his usual spot with the Gryffindors. Sheepish apologies were exchanged and, by the time Kuroo and Bokuto had taken their seats, they were already making plans for the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year as though nothing had happened.

Despite this, Suga had decided that he would let Daichi come to him if he needed help, as opposed to Suga wasting his breath. It wouldn’t stop his worrying over Daichi’s current state, but it would stop them from arguing, which was good enough for now.

“Okay,” Kuroo says, getting the attention of everyone around him. “I’m ready to call it quits for today. Shorty, how about you try one more time, and then we’ll pack up, yeah?”

Hinata nods, and flies to the center of the pitch as Nishinoya falls away to the side of the field.

Daichi digs in the pocket of the hoodie he’s wearing and pulls out the Snitch before tapping it twice and releasing it into the air.

Hinata begins moving in an instant.

Suga hears Kageyama and Lev both inhale sharply and Hinata dips low to the grass, arm outstretched and eyes locked with an animalistic intensity on the ball in front of him. Suddenly, the Snitch darts upwards and Hinata wastes no time in matching its direction, slowly closing the gap between his broom and the ball.

This goes on for a few minutes, with the Snitch attempting to throw Hinata off course and Hinata managing to trail it without breaking a sweat.

“Holy shit,” Suga hears Kuroo say appreciatively, a smile playing on his lips.

Hinata groans and slides slowly to the tip of his broom as he corners the Snitch against the base of the stands. Reaching out, he shifts forward even more and closes his hand to grasp the ball.

In an instant, he tumbles forward off the front of his broom and rolls onto the grass, clutching his hands to his chest.

Kageyama and Lev exhale, and Kageyama slaps a hand to his forehead with a growl.

“Tch,” Bokuto clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Better luck next time, Hinata!”

Hinata sits frozen on the pitch, failing to register Bokuto’s words.

“Uh, Shouyou? Are you hurt?” Nishinoya asks, flying down to land beside Hinata on the grass. Hinata shakes his head.

It’s quiet, until…

“I touched it.”

Nishinoya stares at him as he runs his fingers over the palm of his right hand.

“Huh?”

“I touched the Snitch. I felt its wings.”

Hinata jumps up to his feet and runs over to where the other boys are dismounting their brooms.

“I did it! I touched it! I did it!”

He’s jumping now, pumping his fists in the air, and Suga smiles fondly at the display.

“Good job, Shorty!” Kuroo says, ruffling his hair which also does the trick of forcing him to still himself momentarily. Bokuto claps a giant hand on his back and sends him a smile.

“Good job, Shouyou! You’ll make Seeker for sure!” Lev yells down to the pitch, and Hinata turns around to flash two thumbs up.

“You didn’t catch it,” Kageyama reminds him, and Hinata’s face falls for just a second before he regains his smile. “Don’t get excited for nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Kageyama,” he spits, still grinning. “It’s the first step in becoming the best Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen!”

Kageyama snorts.

Suga, Lev, and Kageyama make their way to the ground of the pitch where Lev and Kageyama begin helping put away the balls and gathering the brooms. Suga catches Daichi’s eye, and walks over to join his conversation with Tanaka. Both look worried.

“What’s wrong? This is good, right?”

Daichi blinks slowly.

“Were you watching him, Suga?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “He flew around at top speed with Noya for a half hour and the minute I said go, he took off like he wasn’t even tired.”

“So?” Suga must be missing something.

“Asahi said before practice that Hinata’s been out here almost every night, working on his own,” Tanaka supplies.

“I mean, that sounds dangerous for him, but I’m not sure…” Suga trails off, pressing a thoughtful finger to his lips.

“Suga, he doesn’t quit,” Daichi sighs. “He doesn’t give up. He barely gets discouraged. He works and works and works and it may not seem like it, because he’s still so rough, but he’s fairly close to seriously trying out for the team.”

When Suga just nods, Tanaka sighs and places a hand on his shoulder.

“What we’re saying is, we just trained the player who is going to make us lose the House Cup.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
